


(I Swear) I Feel Your Heart Rest Upon Your Poor Soul

by orphan_account



Series: the rain saga [6]
Category: CSI: Miami
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Door Sex, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e01 Lost Son, Rain, Smut, Speed lives, Tim Speedle has ADHD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 11:11:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20777621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: You're my sunshine, you're my rainYou're all I've lost yet all I've gainedI'll kiss you close and hold you tightIf that's all right with you





	(I Swear) I Feel Your Heart Rest Upon Your Poor Soul

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Thriving Ivory's [Come November](https://youtu.be/9EBLhHgIgPo). Summary from Harry Hudson's [Yellow Lights](https://youtu.be/w7kjFVvgiDY); I wanted to use it for the title because it fits the fic pretty well, but I couldn't come up with anything better than the current one, so. Here we are.

Later, he'll set the umbrella up in the tub where it can dry properly, but for now, he leans it in the corner by the door. Now, he needs to touch Speedle like he couldn't in the courtyard outside the crime lab, needs to kiss him like he's wanted to since he first saw that familiar figure waiting on the sidewalk.

No sooner has Speedle locked the front door and has turned around than is Eric pushing him against it—gently, mindful of the man's healing shoulder, hands cradling his head and hips crowding him back. The ends of his hair are curled more than usual from the humidity, making him look almost younger, though his dark eyes hold an age beyond his years, soft and a little sad. That won't do at all. Eric leans in to kiss him, slow and sweet, coaxing his mouth open.

"I'm sorry," Speed murmurs, eyes still closed. His hand has come up to curl around Eric's wrist, thumb tracing over his skin.

"It's okay." Eric kisses him again, lingering, sharing breath.

"I was scared."

The admission trips off his lips, likely after too many days spent lodged in his throat. It's been three weeks, about, since the jewelry store.

Eric drops his head to bury in the crook of Speedle's neck, nuzzling under the open collar of his shirt, breathing in his lover's familiar scent—warmth and well-loved books and Speedle—underlying the earthy tang of rain. Speed's hand finds the back of his neck, blunt fingers playing with the hair at his nape. "I was too," he whispers. He isn't sure that Speedle hears him until the man's hold on him tightens and he turns his head to press a kiss to his temple.

He hears Speedle's breath hitch, and then he hears him say, low voice rough, "I love you. I love you, I shouldn't—"

Eric surges up to kiss him, hard, cutting him off. Speed whimpers, straining forward, his fingers fumbling one-handed at the buttons of Eric's shirt. Unwilling to lose any contact, Eric slides a leg between his lover's thighs, both of them groaning into the kiss as their groins come into contact through too many layers, before tearing his hands away from their re-exploration of Speedle's stubbled jaw to make short work of his shirt buttons. Speed's hand is on him even before he's gotten the shirt all the way off his arms, roaming blindly over his newly bared skin, everywhere at once, as if in attempt to make up for only having full use of one hand. As soon as he's got the garment off and tossed it somewhere behind him, he steals his fingers under Speed's shirt, not even bothering with the buttons, just needing to touch his skin, to feel him, warm and alive and _here_.

He swallows a moan from Speedle as he grinds their hips together. "L've you," he breathes against Speed's lips. His fingers trail down to thumb open Speedle's jeans, stroking him once, twice, before fumbling his own open as well. Normally he'd tease, draw it out, but there'll be time for that tonight, when he's got his lover spread out beneath him in bed. In _their_ bed. But now, he just wants. He wraps a hand around them both, swallowing down all the little noises Speed makes, pouring everything he has, everything he is into this. 'Love' isn't big enough a word.

He's missed all of this: Speedle's hands on him, the slick slide of their tongues together, all the breathy noises he makes, his warm, solid presence. He's missed the way Speedle's hips stutter under him, the way his fingers dig hard enough to bruise into the curve above Eric's hips when he's close. He's memorized every inch of Speedle, every one of his tics, but he wants, if he should be so lucky, never to have the chance to forget.

Speed cries out as he comes, and Eric swallows that down too, kissing away the wetness on Speedle's cheeks as he comes down from his own high.

He takes a moment to catch his breath, eyes fluttering open at the gentle touch of fingers to his cheek turning his head so that Speedle can rest their foreheads together. Speedle's thumb brushes away what Eric figures must be matching tear tracks of his own.

"Don't ever think that I won't love you."

He feels more than sees Speed smile. "Yeah," he says, voice warm. "I'm not goin' anywhere."

Eric presses a kiss to the corner of Speedle's mouth before letting his head drop to his lover's shoulder. He should be moving away to clean them both up before things start getting uncomfortable, but Speed doesn't seem to mind, just lets him hold him close, thumb rubbing slow, gentle arcs along the line of his neck.


End file.
